The Sunflower Garden
by Temorali
Summary: At the High School of the World, people came, made friends, then left. Among the students was a single unspoken rule, one that Yao lived by. Don't get close. Don't make real friends. Don't fall in love. To love meant to risk losing, and in a place where losing was everyday, it only ever meant heartbreak. But who was that boy who stared out the window all day? Russia x China AU
1. The Boy and the Window

**Chapter 1 – The Boy and the Window**

Today was a normal day at the High School of the World.

Well, as normal as a day really _can_ be when surrounded by the strangest people across the globe. Which probably wasn't very normal in the grand scheme of things. However, the World was like a sort of home to everyone within it, no matter how odd or extreme their differences may be. The World was actually a series of schools that could take a child from kindergarten straight through to college, so many of the students knew each other very well. However, due to its immense size and ever-growing popularity, there were new students every few months or so, and others found it too hard and left. Friendships came and went in this place, and the students grew to adapt. It was normal to see your friends leave, and it was normal to find new ones almost instantly. Nobody ever paid the idea much thought.

That's just how the World worked. It was a simple truth that was accepted early on, especially to those students that had gone to the schools since their childhood. However, this often meant that, as children are like to do, not many of the students at the World became very close with one another. There was almost an unspoken rule that one is never to fall in love; to fall in love meant letting someone in behind your walls, giving them your trust, opening your heart to someone who would most likely walk away and take a piece of you with them.

There were still couples who gave it a shot, of course – but when one of the two moved away and on to a different school, the students saw what became of the one left behind. It was a fate few ever spoke about, but all feared.

Heartbreak, and the undying feeling of being so wholly alone that you couldn't stand it.

That was why Yao Wang, a Chinese boy of eighteen in his Senior year of high school at the World, promised himself he would never fall in love.

…

Resting his face upon on of his fists, Yao drew lazy lines across his notes that formed the vague shape of a panda. He wasn't really trying to make anything beautiful; he was bored, and class was going to be over in a few minutes anyway, then he'd be able to go to lunch and finally fill his stomach with something of substance. He had forgotten to eat breakfast this morning, and it was already late in the afternoon, and his stomach was growling, and why couldn't Alfred just _shut up about food for one second please?_

"Dude, seriously, I feel like that clock slows down on purpose when it's almost lunchtime!" The American whined loudly, gesturing not-so-subtly at the offensive clock hanging on the wall of the classroom. "Come on!" he shouted at the object, "move faster already so I can eat! I'm starving, and today they're serving cheeseburgers in line two, and I _neeeeeeeed _one right now!"

"You bloody git," Arthur Kirkland, the British student beside him, remarked with a tone of annoyance. "Time doesn't just slow down because it's almost lunch. And it certainly won't speed up just because _you told it to_."

Alfred F. Jones looked back at Arthur with a look of childish curiosity. "Eh? Whoa, man, so are you saying that if I asked really nicely it would speed up?" Not giving the Briton a chance to answer, he spun back around to the clock and held his hands as if in prayer, then allowed his head to fall and hit the desk with a loud 'thump'. "PLEASE, FATHER TIME, CAN YOU MOVE QUICKER SO MY STOMACH DOESN'T MELT ITSELF AWAY? PLE-EASE, I'M SO HUNGRY!"

Yao raised an eyebrow at the display, but was more than amused when Arthur proceeded to drop a textbook on the American's head without real warning. Alfred's head snapped up and he cradled it between his hands, whining obnoxiously. However, Yao (and the rest of the class) had become so accustomed to this display that he had learned to block the noise out. That was something a student had to learn if the attended the World – blocking out stupidity, that is – but it never truly went away.

The people in the World really were all a bunch of idiots.

Absentmindedly, Yao allowed his attention to wander a little further away to where his Japanese brother, Kiku Honda, was chatting with the Greek boy, Heracles Karpusi. Honestly, Heracles was probably one of the only people that could get Kiku to really speak, save for Alfred and that Italian kid (which, by consequence, included the German too.) His brother nodded politely at something the Greek was saying, an action which was promptly returned by a slow smile and a lazy gesture that probably had something to do with discussing philosophy. The two of them were always talking about philosophy, and while Yao had thought it interesting at first, the never-ending topics had quickly grown to be too abstract and drawled on for too long for the Chinese's likes. So he didn't so much listen to their conversation as he watched them have it, silently admiring how much Kiku opened up around this man.

He desperately hoped Heracles wouldn't move away, for Kiku's sake.

Just then, the bell started to ring, and Alfred was out of the door before it ended. His stampeding footsteps could be heard echoing from down the halls, but the rest of the classroom hardly even seemed to notice. Arthur seemed to be the only one who cared enough to say something, but as always, it was a mutter under the breath of something akin to "at least he's working off all those calories running down the hall."

In small groups the students filtered out, but Yao waited until there were few left before he packed up his belongings and rose to his feet. Lunch was an hour long at the World, to accommodate for the immense group of students, so he had no real reason to rush. And it was better to wait than to get run over by passersby who did happen to be in a rush, such as a certain glasses-wearing jock. At least, that's what Yao believed.

As he slung his bag over his shoulder, he caught sight of something that wasn't so normal for a day at the World. A boy who looked to be about his age was still seated at his desk in the far back corner of the room, next to the window. The boy was rather tall, a fact that was apparent besides the fact that he was sitting down, and was propped up on one elbow as he gazed outside. His bangs fell into his turned-away eyes so that Yao couldn't quite see what color they were, but his hair itself was a fair color, caught somewhere between being actually blonde and being somewhat white. A prominent yet handsome nose jutted from his face and complimented his slightly round yet still sharp jawline. He appeared to be unmoving, save for the slightest movement of lips as breath passed through.

Yao wasn't sure if the boy had heard the bell by the way he was just sitting there, but something held him back from asking. Even if he hadn't heard it, he would surely notice that the rest of the class was gone and follow. With one final glance towards the boy staring out the window, Yao Wang turned away and exited the room without a word.

…

"Hey, here he comes! See, Artie, I told you he wasn't going to skip lunch!"

"I've told you a thousand times not to call me "Artie," you bloody idiot."

Yao's table, which consisted of Alfred, Arthur, Kiku and Heracles, looked up to see as the Chinese boy took his seat across from his brother. Yao set his tray on the table and watched with an unamused gaze as Alfred and Arthur got into yet another quarrel, though it was quickly cut off by a hamburger being stuffed into the American's mouth. The silence was short lived, however, as Alfred decided to talk with half the thing still in his mouth, therefore spitting food onto the table. Not that he noticed. Arthur said something about how it was a revolting display of improper upbringing, but he refused to clean up the mess. Kiku and Yao shifted away from Alfred as subtly as they could, whereas Heracles simply remained where he was.

Yao sighed. He needed better, quieter friends who weren't his brother or his brother's friend.

Yao took a bite of his food and allowed a faint smile to creep onto his face as the food settled in his stomach. It was by no means gourmet, and he could've bought better things at the nearest fast food joint, but for now, it satiated his hunger, and that was enough. Just as he was beginning to enjoy his meal, however, Alfred decided to bring the table's attention back to Yao, asking him, "So hey, man. What took you so long to get here anyways?"

"I was packing up my stuff like usual-aru. You know I don't sprint a mile for a hamburger like you do."

Alfred ignored the comment and pressed for more. "Hey, not even you normally take that long, old man. So what's up?"

And then suddenly Francis was sitting on top of their table, sprung from oblivion, causing Yao to jump in surprise. He quickly moved his food as far away from Francis as he could and slid closer to Alfred again, trying to do all he could to get away from the Frenchman. Arthur shouted something obscene and rose to his feet, but Francis ignored him and winked at the rest of the table.

"Ah, did our Chinese friend here find _l'amour _at long last?" he asked under his breath, as if he were trying to seduce everyone at the table at once.

Yao glared at Francis with no reservations about appearing rude. After all, _he_ wasn't the one sitting where everyone else's food went.

"Whoa, dudes, did you hear that? Yao has a girlfriend!" Alfred cried out, his eyes practically shining with excitement. Yao felt annoyance turn into frustration as the American and the Frenchman began talking animatedly with each other, leaving Yao – the subject of the conversation – out of it.

"I do _not_ have a girlfriend-aru." Yao said, the conviction in his voice earning him his 'friends'' attention once more.

"Oh~?" Francis leaned in closer, and Yao could tell that he smelled like flowers. It was starting to make him dizzy. "Then, what were you doing while your friends awaited your arrival?"

Yao rolled his eyes. He gave up. There was absolutely no winning this game with Francis. Despite the almost-rule, Francis was one of the few people in the World who never stopped going on and on about love. He made constant remarks about how sad it was that people didn't love enough at this school. He was known to most of the students as a player, and women and men alike tried to keep away from him, not necessarily out of any hatred for the man, but they were afraid. That didn't stop Francis from trying, however.

And whenever Francis thought he found any trace of his beloved "amour," whether it had anything to do with him or not, he refused to change the subject. So the only thing Yao could do was tell him the truth and hope he dropped it.

"Look, I saw this boy as I was about to leave the class-aru. He was just sitting there, looking out the window. I didn't recognize him, so I left. That's it-aru."

Apparently Francis only caught the first sentence. "Oh hon hon, so our little Chinese friend walks the other way, oui? Not that I'm surprised, given these two over here," he said as he gestured towards Kiku and Heracles. Kiku's face lit up a bright red and panic seemed to overtake his eyes at the assumption.

"Ah, no, Francis-san, I'm not-"

"Whoa! Yao, I never knew you were gay! When were you planning on telling us, huh?"

Yao slumped to the table in defeat. Great. Now his friends were off on the tangent train, and nobody knew when it would return. Hopefully sometime soon. Yao didn't want rumors to start spreading throughout the school. It wasn't so much a problem as it was an annoyance, and he didn't have a problem with being considered gay. He just had never put much thought into his sexuality before. It kind of went along with the almost-rule. Don't fall in love; don't think about falling in love. Don't think about what kinds of people you'd end up falling in love _with_. It never ended well for anyone.

And now, Yao's completely crazy tablemates wouldn't shut up about it.

"I give up on all of you-aru." Yao sighed as he put more food in his mouth. The rest of the lunch period passed by ever so slowly, and eventually the group strayed from talking about Yao to talking about Francis and Alfred and Arthur (the last sputtering indignantly upon being accused of as being homosexual, to the Frenchman's amusement.) Francis never did get off of their table.

…

When Yao got home that day, he felt exhausted. That last test at the end of the day had worn him out, and although Kiku and the rest of his siblings were quick to get to their pastime hobbies, Yao trudged up the stairs to his room. He was the only family member in the house who had his own bedroom, since he was the oldest. His parents were just down the hall, and then the rest of his siblings had ended up sharing rooms.

So, not for the first time in his life, Yao was thankful he was the firstborn child. Having his own room meant that he could plop down on his bed and unwind and stare at the ceiling for as long as he wanted without people bustling around him. It was nice, and one of the few comforts he was allowed to have on a day-to-day basis.

And today was definitely one of those plop-down-on-the-bed days.

After that extenuating day at the World, Yao wanted to do nothing but fall asleep and never wake back up. He figured Kiku was feeling very much the same way. While most of the attention had been on him, his Japanese brother had also been a target of Francis's, and he seemed to not have taken the embarrassment all that well. Heracles was perfectly fine with the assumption; if anything, he didn't even notice what he and Kiku were being accused of. Or maybe he had. Who knows.

Yao closed his eyes against the comfortable warmth of his blankets pillowing up beside him. Sleep. He was going to sleep, and figure everything out tomorrow, when his head didn't feel so heavy. Maybe then his friends would have moved on to another topic. If he was lucky enough.

But for now, sleep. Sleep sounded nice.

* * *

_A/N: Here's a new Russia x China project I'm starting to work on! My sister isn't going to be participating in this one, so it'll be up to me to write Yao Wang. This will be the first time I've officially ever written his character, so I hope he ends up coming across as the China we all know and love._

_I plan on having a healthy dose of humor in this one, since my last Rochu, **Broken Eyes in a Busy Crowd**, is rather angsty and kind of depressing. However, this story is ultimately one huge character study, so it will get deep and serious lots of times, too._

_Also, the High School of the World is an idea that I took from Gakuen Hetalia and similar fanfictions, but it has been modified for this story by me. There's so many parallels one can use when your school is literally known as "the World" and I figured it'd give some artistic touch to a rather popular genre. I hope you will all enjoy reading it as much as I love writing it!_

_One last thing - while this story is almost solely focused on the pairing Russia x China, it will also contain some America x England and Greece x Japan. However, since this story is written solely from Yao's point of view, you will only ever see as much of those pairings as Yao does, so it really won't be that much in the grand scheme of things. I hope these pairings won't dissuade some of you from reading! Thanks so much for anyone who takes the time to read **The Sunflower**** Garden**!_

_-Temorali_


	2. The Lone Sunflower

**Chapter 2 – The Lone Sunflower**

Like nearly every other day at the World, the class before lunch was chaotic.

Yao couldn't even begin to count the number of times he's felt bad for their teacher. Mr. Edelstein was a proper man and an intellectual, but there was no way anyone could have reeled in these students' behavior. Not while Alfred, Arthur, and Francis were all in the same room, at least, and certainly not before lunch. So Mr. Edelstein, not two months into the school year, and gone and announced that the students weren't worth his time and that they could just do whatever they wanted so long as they don't get him fired. Simple enough.

So while they were no longer learning mathematics (save for the few pages of homework Mr. Edelstein assigned, which were hardly completed) this extra class hour gave the students time to enjoy themselves and get to know other people. It was kind of nice, if not a little noisy, but Yao took it in stride. It often served as a study hall for him instead.

Thankfully enough, Yao's friends seemed to have forgotten about the sudden declaration of Yao's sexuality from yesterday, and were instead focused on their own personal argument. Francis and Arthur were nearly at each other's throats, arguing about anything to everything, with Alfred jumping in to both support and criticize Arthur. It was three-way madness over there, Yao figured, and he'd rather stay out of it. Especially when Arthur started mentioning something about curses and Francis and frogs. That never ended well.

Absentmindedly, Yao allowed his attention to drift across the room until it landed on the boy by the window. He almost hadn't noticed him among the chaos, but there he was, still staring through the window like he had been yesterday. His pose itself almost mirrored that of the day before, too – it was so close, Yao noticed, that the Asian wondered if he'd even moved at all.

Yao sent a careful glance around the room to make sure his friends were occupied before standing up and walking towards the boy. He didn't want to draw attention to himself, especially not after the lunch conversation yesterday, but at the same time, Yao's curiosity got the better of him. The desk in front of the boy's was empty, so Yao took his seat backwards and folded his arms over the back, where he could face him without straining to look around.

When the boy didn't seem to notice his presence, Yao cleared his throat. Still no reply. Growing annoyed, he finally spoke up, asking in not so polite a tone, "Hey, what are you looking at-aru?"

Suddenly the boy moved, as if broken out of a trance. He spun his head around to fix Yao with a wide, violet-eyed stare, regarding him as if Yao were simply just a figment of his imagination.

Yao had never seen such an eye color before in all his life. The irises were a vibrant purple color that bled darker, like ink, into the depths of this boy's pupils. There they pooled akin to the bottom of a well, and for what seemed an eternity, Yao could not tear his gaze away. He wanted to reach out, to drown in this violet sea. He felt himself falling but he wasn't trying to stop it.

Only when the boy's owlish gaze closed for a fraction of a second to blink did Yao finally break free of the spell, and he shook his head sharply, heat rising to his cheeks. _Had he just stared at a stranger? How long had he been sitting there? Did he make a fool of himself?_

The answers to those questions would have to wait, however, because as of right now, Yao had a chance to fix this misunderstanding. Clearing his throat once more, he repeated, "What were you looking at-aru?"

Violet eyes blinked once more as the boy registered the question, then dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement. A tiny smile – somewhat unnerving, but also a little shy – pulled at the corners of his mouth, and he turned his attention back to the window.

"I was just watching the outside. It looks like the weather's nice today," he said, his attention focused past the glass. His voice was soft, quiet, and almost a little hesitant – Yao found it completely refreshing.

Yao shrugged half to himself. "I suppose-aru. I heard it's going to rain today, though."

"Is that so?" The boy turned his gaze back from outside to Yao in a calm, fluid motion. His wide eyes still stared from behind his side-swept bangs, watching Yao's every movement with a natural born curiosity and…something else. Yao couldn't quite put his finger on it. "Did you bring an umbrella?"

The Chinese man was about to respond when suddenly the bell rang, its high-pitched shriek drowned out once more by an overly enthusiastic Alfred making a mad dash to the lunch room. Yao stood with the rest of the crowd so he could gather his things before heading out. He glanced over his shoulder, however, to see the boy's gaze slide away from him, once more resting on his elbow as his attention was brought once more back to the outdoors. Yao thought about calling out to him, but it took little to shut his mouth. Sending one last look back towards the violet-eyed boy, Yao slung his bag over his shoulders and stepped out of the classroom to join his friends for lunch.

He never saw if the boy had left the classroom this time, either.

…

"Dude, Yao, you're either the bravest or stupidest person I've ever met."

Yao raised an eyebrow at the announcement. Alfred was watching with a serious yet gossipy look about him, completely disregarding his cheeseburger for once as his full attention was given solely to the Chinese man. Yao didn't know what had warranted this special attention today or why he should care, but he responded anyway.

"Why's that-aru? Did I do something?"

Alfred's eyes widened in disbelief. "Uh, _yeah, _you only talked to the creepiest person _in the World_!" And before Arthur could make some comment or other, the American added, "And yes, I mean it in both contexts!"

Yao blinked in surprise. When had he done this, exactly? He wasn't exactly the type to go up to people who looked creepy and start conversations with them. Confused, Yao simply asked, "Who?"

"Um, _Ivan Braginsky? _The freaky Russian kid with the purple eyes?" Alfred looked from Yao to the others with an incredulous look. "Yao, you literally talked to the most creepy person you will ever meet, and you didn't even know."

Yao raised his hands in self-defense. "I didn't know he was scary-aru! I've never even seen him before in my life, let alone heard about him!"

This time it was Arthur who spoke up. "He's been coming here since the fourth grade. I shared a class with that kid, and let me tell you, he's a bloody lunatic." Green eyes slid over Yao's frame analytically. "If you have any sense of self-preservation, I'd advise you stay as far away from him as you can get."

Yao was absolutely lost. When he had talked to this…Ivan…before, he didn't get the impression that he was scary at all. Maybe a little socially awkward, but not some 'bloody lunatic' as Arthur said. "What are you talking about-aru? He didn't seem that bad."

Alfred waved his hand dismissively in the air. "That's what they all say. But I used to know these three kids back in the day – the Trembling Trio, me and my friends called them – that used to hang around him every day. At first he was all nice, but then he started getting abusive." For what seemed to be the first time in his life, Alfred lowered his voice as he leaned closer to Yao. "Toris, one of those three, was a real pal of mine. One day, that Ivan kid beat him up real good. I don't know what he did exactly, but Toris's back was covered in all these nasty cuts."

Arthur nodded grimly. "They say that Ivan uses a lead pipe to bludgeon his victims. That might've been what he got Toris with, the poor chap."

Yao narrowed his eyes skeptically, but he couldn't help but be intrigued in a sick sort of way. Was the Ivan he talked with in that classroom really that violent? Had he just talked with an abusive kid? He felt an uncontrollable shiver travel down his spine at the thought.

"Yao, nobody knows for sure if these rumors are true," Kiku added, apparently having been listening to the conversation. Heracles beside him was inexpressive, and might've been thinking the matter over in his own head.

Yao pulled his ponytail slightly, trying to digest that information. Normally, he wouldn't trust whatever it was Alfred had to say – he tended to pick up everything, but couldn't sort out what was truth from what was false. For instance, one time he ran into school screaming something about space aliens taking over his favorite fast food restaurant. That day had been rather amusing, but obviously, it turned out to be a complete lie.

However, Arthur wasn't nearly as prone to gossip as the other people Yao had talked to. He tended to say only things that he truly believed, and while he still may not know the truth, words from his mouth were far more credible than those from Alfred's. And if even _he_ was spreading rumors about this Ivan person, then Yao felt he had reason to actually pay attention.

On the other hand, Kiku was also correct – Yao had no evidence that Ivan was a demented brutal psychopath, so he probably shouldn't worry too much about it. Right?

…

Yao had stewed over his friends' advice for the remainder of the day. He wasn't sure why he was so fixated on whether or not this Ivan person was truly horrible or not, so he blamed it on human nature and continued his musings. He didn't see Ivan for the rest of the day, however, so there was no chance for any confrontation.

But, what would confrontation really be like, anyway?

_Hello Ivan, my name is Yao Wang and my friends told me you like beating people with lead pipes. Is that true?_

No, that would not do. Psychopath or not, he was sure to get angry as any other human being would.

Despite his doubts, however, Yao found that he was unable to view Ivan in such a light. True, he knew next to nothing about the boy in the corner of the room, but something in those violet eyes told Yao that he shouldn't worry, that Ivan wasn't as terrible a person as Alfred and Arthur claimed he was.

The Asian let out a frustrated growl and scratched his head as he walked down the school stairs. He wasn't going to find out anything by just thinking in circles! He'd be lucky if he found out anything at all without asking Ivan himself, which he clearly couldn't do.

And as if his current conundrum wasn't enough, when he stepped outside, he felt as if someone dropped a lake on his head.

_Damn it, it just _had _to be raining!_

As Yao charged through the streets looking for shelter to wait out the storm, Ivan's words echoed in his head, mocking him.

_Did you bring an umbrella?_

Yao cursed with all his might at today's luck as he ran down a different street than the one he normally took. He had taken this route before, but it was through the worse parts of town, so he tried to avoid it at all costs. However, today it was pouring rain, and this way was quicker, and Yao just wanted to get home.

His feet hit the ground in rhythm to the splashing water beneath him. Suddenly, he felt the world begin to spin as his right foot slipped out from under him on the slick road, and he braced himself with his arms for impact. He collided heavily with the ground and water sprayed up in his face, which he spat out angrily as soon as he got the chance. He was going to be bruised later, but right now, he focused on simply standing up. Yao used a nearby light pole to raise himself to his feet.

He was about to continue on his way when he froze. Right before him was a lightly-colored fence. It traveled the perimeter of this person's backyard and was somewhat dingy, but it obviously wasn't the fence itself that stole Yao's attention.

It was what was inside the boundaries that made him care.

Right there, in the center of an otherwise empty yard, stood a lone sunflower, unperturbed by the harsh weather. There were no other flowers around it, and nothing to protect it from the harshness of nature. But there it stood, proudly pushing out from the soil and raising its brightly colored petals towards the sky as if in prayer.

Yao's moment of admiration disappeared as he remembered that he was soaked to the bone, but when he turned away, he couldn't help but glance back at the simple plant.

The sunflower was still weathering the storm.

* * *

_Here's another chapter of the Sunflower Garden! Is what Alfred says true? Has everyone's favorite fast food joint been taken over by space aliens? The World may never know..._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or its characters._


	3. Crooked Fence

**Chapter 3 – Crooked Fence**

Nothing special happened over the next two weeks, at least not as far as Yao was concerned. His 'friends' were as idiotic as ever, Kiku was still talking with Heracles, Mr. Edelstein's presence in the classroom was almost nonexistent – everything was as it had always been.

The only difference was that now, Yao Wang couldn't stop wondering about that Ivan guy.

Every day, without fail, Ivan sat staring out of the window, as if he was afraid if he looked away, he'd miss something terribly important. Yao hadn't so much as approached him since the last time, partly due to the rumors he'd been told regarding the violet-eyed boy. However, he also figured that it wouldn't matter in the long run – that is, talking to Ivan. Yao did as the almost-rule commanded. He kept his distance, wore his annoyance where everyone could see it, made certain that no one would ever get past his carefully sculpted walls. Because there was no way Yao would end up like the others. He wasn't about to let someone walk away with his heart, leaving him with nothing. It wasn't worth it. Nothing ever would be.

So Yao did all he could to ignore his curiosities surrounding the Russian by plunging himself back into his schoolwork and surrounding himself with the most obnoxious people the World could offer. And over the course of those two weeks, things went almost back to normal. Yao was just beginning to forget about Ivan's existence.

Until today, that is.

Yao stuffed the rest of his things in his locker and slammed it shut, silently thankful the school day was over and done with so he could get on his way home. Kiku and their brother Leon had just gotten a new video game that Yao was actually rather excited to play, but he knew that if he didn't get home soon, they'd start without him. If that happened, he knew he'd never even get to touch the controller.

He had the best brothers in the entire world.

However, just as Yao was about to turn and leave, he caught sight of the very man he had been trying to forget about all week. There, walking down the hall, was Ivan Braginsky, followed by a pretty girl with a ribbon on her head. The girl's long, blonde hair graced her shoulders as she stood tall, regarding her surroundings with a slightly disapproving expression. She seemed to be saying something to the taller man, who only nodded and mumbled quietly under his breath to prove that he was listening.

Yao was inclined to turn and walk away; after all, what Ivan was doing and who he was with didn't concern him in the slightest. However, the Russian's owlish violet eyes caught Yao's as he looked up, and the Asian was stuck. In a weak effort not to appear rude, he raised a hand in acknowledgement. Ivan's gaze widened slightly, and he waited patiently as Yao approached him.

Ivan really _was_ tall, Yao decided as he stood before him. Now that the blonde was on his feet he seemed to tower over the Chinese boy, and Yao couldn't help but feel intimidated. However, the boy's softer gaze did some to soothe his nerves, so Yao was able to manage a short "Hello-aru."

Ivan nodded slightly in response, and the woman beside him wrapped herself around his arm possessively, glaring daggers at Yao. Up close, he could see that while she was rather attractive, she was also very frightening – her eyes devoid of any emotion save for a wave of dark jealousy that crashed against Yao, as if trying to drown him.

Before he knew what he was doing, Yao took an uncomfortable step back, putting some distance between him and the woman like he was avoiding a tiger. Ivan's owl-eyed gaze flickered at the movement, and curiosity overcame his features. He looked slowly from Yao to the woman on his arm, then his eyes widened in realization. In a voice that was almost a whisper, he asked, "Natasha, can you go on ahead without me? I'll catch up to you soon, I promise."

The girl looked up at Ivan in disbelief, but begrudgingly let go of his arm, still hesitant about leaving. However, one tiny smile from Ivan and she nodded and walked away, but not before sending Yao a look that could kill. The Asian shivered even as her delicate form moved on down the hall.

"I am sorry about Natalya," Ivan said in his heavily accented half-whisper. Yao had to listen closely to understand him. "She can be really nice, but is also very scary, да?"

Yao nodded once, still watching Natalya's retreating form just to make sure she wouldn't come back and stab him or something. Once she was safely out of sight, Yao forced a short laugh. "Is she your girlfriend?"

Ivan's eyes grew in surprise and he shook his head. "No, Natalya is my younger sister." He allowed himself to laugh nervously, then added, "But I can see how you would think that."

Great. Now things were just awkward. Both boys just stood there in silence, trying to come up with something to say. Yao felt like he should keep talking, since he had made Ivan wait and his sister go on ahead without him, but he couldn't come up with a topic.

_Hey, Ivan, maim any other students lately?_

Yao really needed to get his brain fixed.

Luckily, Ivan came up with something to say before Yao did. Watching the Asian with those curious eyes of his, Ivan said, "I am sorry, but I do not know what to call you. What is your name?"

Yao waved his hand in the air as he began to regain his typical confidence. Names were something he could do. "My name is Yao Wang, from China-aru."

Ivan hid his small smile behind the fabric of his scarf. "I am sure Alfred has already told you, but my name is Ivan Braginsky." He held out a hand, and then added, "I am from Russia."

Yao took Ivan's hand in his with a nod and shook it. The Russian's grip was firm, and his hand was freezing, but it was also gentle. So gentle, in fact, that Yao offhandedly wondered if this could really be the same brutal man that his friends had described before. Ivan really didn't seem like such a bad person.

Maybe Alfred and Arthur got him mixed up with someone else?

Their introductions over, Ivan's arms once more fell to his sides. He looked awkward, as if he wasn't sure what to do next. Fidgeting uncomfortably under Yao's stare, he bowed slightly. "I should probably be on my way, so Natalya doesn't get upset. Nice meeting you, Yao."

Yao muttered in agreement, and Ivan walked past him, heading in the direction Natalya had gone. Yao found he was unable to move. He didn't know why. All he could do was look back over his shoulder to where Ivan was stepping further away. Alone in a long hall, the Russian walked with his back straight and his eyes forward. And then he turned a corner, and he was gone.

…

Yao had officially given up on getting home in time to play that video game with his brothers. After his awkward little chat with Ivan, he had ended up being stopped by at least four other people, each asking him to do something or other. One of those asked him to vote on which was better: hamburgers or scones. An annoyed Yao had refused to give an acceptable answer. Alfred had needed a good kick in the shin anyway.

For one reason or another, Yao had decided to take the same path as he had two weeks ago when it raining. He walked the street instead of running along it this time, which gave him a chance to see the neighborhood better.

Each and every house was rather dingy. Some houses were practically in shambles, while the better ones – which were few and far between – looked as though they would rot away any day now. Yao wondered just what kind of person would ever really be able to live in a place like this. He would've doubted anyone lived here had he not seen a few people out on their lawns or walking around. The people had looked much like their homes did, actually; the ones he'd seen across the street were rough-skinned, and watched him with cold, hard eyes. Yao instantly felt out of place. He didn't belong here, everyone knew it, and the sooner he left, the better off everyone would be. With that thought in mind, he quickened his pace.

However, as the houses turned more into dumps and people became almost nonexistent, Yao allowed himself to slow down. He took careful steps, his eyes glancing over anything and everything, alert for signs of danger. He didn't think he'd find anything, but he couldn't be too careful.

He heard an owl hoot from somewhere in the distance, making him jump in shock. He trembled slightly; why, oh _why _had he thought that walking through the worst part of town was a good idea?

He nearly leapt out of his skin when he heard a crash from behind him. He spun around, muscles tight, eyes alert for anything that moved. What he ended up seeing was a cat – a creature shrouded in black, with one eye that pierced through the darkness of its own fur. The creature prowled beside a trash can proudly, and the only attention it really gave Yao was its one-eyed stare, waiting for him to get out of its territory so it could feast.

Anxiety taking over, Yao quickly picked up the pace again.

A little ways later, Yao caught sight of something that actually inspired hope instead of fear. He was currently standing exactly where he had fallen two weeks ago, near the light pole. Before him spread the same fence as last time. Now that it wasn't dark, Yao could see that the perimeter was painted a light cream color, although years of use had worn away most of the color and left parts of it splotched with an ugly brown. It also had a huge, completely obvious bend in it; Yao didn't know what would have caused that, but he felt kind of bad for the person who owned it.

His attention was diverted from the poorly-constructed fence, however, upon seeing the bright yellow glow from within. The sunflower was still standing tall, although it was paired with a second now, standing beside it in a sort of protective unity. Together, both flowers' petals curled towards the sky, as though they were worshipping the warmth of the sun together. Yao looked up as well, using his arm to provide shade for his eyes. Clouds drifted lazily overhead but never masked the light, only complimented it with their presence.

It was such a gorgeous day. Yao looked back at the sunflowers and wondered what they were doing there in the first place. Why were such pretty things in such a sad place as this?

An owl hooted once more overhead, so Yao took off in the direction of his house.


	4. Gray Bonds

**Chapter 4 – Gray Bonds**

It was lunchtime once more at the World, and Yao was, as usual, sitting with his group of four friends. The only real difference this time was that Francis had decided to join them as well.

Thankfully, Francis had enough common decency to not sit on top of the table this time, which gave Yao and Kiku a little bit of breathing room. Arthur was currently trying to explain the concepts of basic English to an unamused Alfred, who would indignantly defend his grammar by using incorrect grammar.

"But Artie, I just learned something the other day in English!"

"It's Arthur! And the word is 'learnt', not 'learned', you insufferable fool!"

"What? No, everyone knows that all past-tense words end in an 'ed'! How much stupider can you get?"

"Oui, _Artie_, are those eyebrows of yours blocking out any signals to your brain?"

"Shut the hell up, Frog, before I turn you into one!"

Oh, what another peaceful day in Idiot Central. With a resigned sigh, Yao turned his attention across the table to his brother. "Are they going to be done anytime soon-aru?"

Kiku shook his head a little sadly. "I do not think so."

The two brothers remained in silence, but it was apparent there was something Kiku wanted to ask. He sat there politely instead of opening his mouth, however, so Yao decided to get to it already.

"What is it-aru?"

Kiku met Yao's eyes with his everlasting tranquility. It was obvious why he and Heracles got along so well, after all, considering their personalities. "Have you talked to Ivan recently?" He asked, his opinion on the subject masked from his brother.

Yao shrugged. "Yeah-aru. Yesterday. Why?"

Kiku shook his head. "No reason. I was simply curious."

However, the others stopped their three-way argument and turned to Yao with a joint stare of incredulity. Alfred's eyes in particular were wide with shock, and he paused in the middle of slurping his milkshake to speak.

"Dude, are you crazy? We told you, he's not good news!"

Arthur nodded in a sort of subdued agreement. The two were staring at Yao like he'd grown a second head – he almost wanted to look and make sure.

However, this was most definitely news to Francis. "What's this? Am I to believe you've _talked_ to Ivan?"

"Oh, right, you didn't know about the first time." Alfred's tone switched to a lower octave, his mood change almost as clear as night and day. "Apparently Ivan's been harassing Yao or something. But Yao doesn't believe us when we say that he shouldn't be anywhere near him."

Yao's nose scrunched up in annoyance. "Ivan's done nothing wrong so far-aru. I don't see what the big problem is."

"It won't last that way for long, dude."

Yao was about to retort, but a glimpse of Francis's expression quieted him before he even found the words. The Frenchman to his right had his lips drawn into a tight frown as he seemed to glare at something invisible before him. He wore no sign of his usual cheer or pride. The single look at this anti-Francis was enough to make Yao lower his head reluctantly.

"Never mind. Just forget I ever said anything."

…

Yao cast a wary glance at the clouds overhead. Right now, everything seemed clear. The sky was blue, the sun was gentle, and trees' leaves drifted casually in the breeze. However, ever since his little 'rain run' he'd been keeping a careful eye on the weather, just in case.

And he had an umbrella stored safely in his locker, for when the need arose.

Yao was just exiting the school building when he caught sight of someone familiar, and he laughed to himself humorlessly under his breath. Just when his friends told him how bad he was for this, here he was – about to face Ivan Braginsky once more, without a rude persona. He found he was unable to be too mean to the violet-eyed boy, and instead of pushing him away like his brain and everyone else told him to, Yao attempted to act friendly, at least somewhat. Maybe it was simply because he hadn't seen any reason to treat the Russian poorly; after all, he seemed decent enough, and Yao had the feeling hurting him would be like kicking a puppy. And there was no way he could kick a puppy.

Ivan was walking towards him unknowingly with two girls at his sides now. One was that woman from yesterday – Natalya, Yao thought her name was – but the second girl was new to him. She had short, blonde hair and a friendly face, almost the polar opposite of Natalya. She was chatting amiably to Ivan who walked at her side, but Ivan for the most part seemed unresponsive; he watched his feet as he walked, only occasionally glancing up to nod in response. Natalya seemed to be staring at Ivan from the corner of her eyes but was otherwise stiff, like a sword at his hip.

By some chance Ivan's gaze met Yao's just as they were nearing one another, and the Russian stopped in his tracks. Something flashed in his violet eyes that Yao couldn't decipher, but then it was gone, replaced with a look of recognition. The unfamiliar woman at his side noticed his hesitance and followed his gaze with a warm smile.

"Oh, Ivan, is this a friend of yours?" Without waiting for his answer, the woman approached Yao and held out her hand. Yao awkwardly took it, and she shook it excitedly, her eyes scanning over him from head to toe. Apparently satisfied with what she saw, she laughed under her breath. "Hello! My name is Yekaterina, but you may call me Katyusha if you'd like."

Yao nodded uncertainly. He hadn't met anyone as outwardly friendly as her in a long time, and he wasn't sure exactly how to respond. So he didn't.

"Sis," Ivan spoke up in a nervous voice as he looked from Katyusha to Yao and back again, "um, this is Yao. And we are not quite friends, I have only talked to him once or twice…"

Katyusha seemed to believe Ivan was speaking nonsense, and she waved it away with her hand. "Don't worry about it, Vanechka; he's cute enough for you!"

At the statement, Natalya pressed closer to her brother's side and glared at Yao from behind Ivan's arm as if Yao had killed her pet hamster or something. As if things weren't bad enough, both Yao and Ivan's faces reddened terribly, and they tried weakly to speak in their defense.

"A-Aiyah, no, I'm-"

"S-Sis, wait, that's-"

Katyusha laughed gently, and the sound made both boys pause to regain a sense of mind. With an almost motherly gaze, Katyusha turned to Ivan, who lowered his head shyly into his scarf.

"I'm joking, Ivan, don't worry."

Ivan didn't respond, but Yao knew he'd heard her words. Natalya apparently had, too, for she relaxed considerably, though she still refused to part from his arm.

Yao let out a breath of relief and allowed his awkwardness to flow out through it. He didn't know why he allowed himself to get so worked up…

"Yao?" The Chinese boy turned towards Katyusha at the sound of his name, and she fixed him with her eyes. Their earlier lightness was replaced with aquamarine worry, and Yao couldn't help but feel as if he were lost in an ocean, waves crashing over him and pulling him under. For a moment he couldn't breathe – the concern for her brother shone through her soul, and in a moment of all seriousness, she offered him a voice that he would remember often in the days to come.

"Yao," her voice was quiet, and now only the two of them were standing there, Ivan and Natalya and everyone else long since faded into the background. "Ivan isn't all he appears to be, and not even I know what he's really thinking most of the time. But he really needs a friend." Katyusha's aquamarine eyes bore into Yao's as she prodded at his soul. "Please, whatever you do, don't hurt him."

And then she smiled, and all the tension seemed to fall straight out of the sky, crumpling where it lay. Yao found he could use his lungs again, and suddenly everything came back into focus. Ivan was sending him an inquisitive stare, and he didn't look for too long at Natalya, but he knew she was probably still stabbing him with her eyes as always. Katyusha's bright smile turned away, and she began to walk off down the street without her siblings.

Ivan looked back at her, then back at Yao, obviously caught between what he should do. Eventually, he whispered a regretful, "Sorry," and turned to follow his sister. And then, just as soon as they had appeared they were gone again, leaving Yao standing alone, looking at a busy street that seemed as if it were empty.

"Yao!" The Asian jumped about five feet in the air as a strong arm slung itself over his shoulders and a familiarly loud voice rang in his ear.

"Aiyah, don't do that-aru!" Yao cried, shrinking as far away from Alfred as he could manage. Alfred seemed ignorant of the action, however, and held his grip. "And how do you pop out of nowhere-aru?"

"A question I'm certain we'd all love to have answered," came the Briton's snarky voice, followed by the blonde himself. Arthur stepped up to Yao's side with an unamused look etched in the lines of his face, and his hands were on his hips. "Honestly, Alfred, can you not greet someone like a normal human being for once in your life?"

"Dude, Artie, you sound like my mom." And then back to Yao, "Hey man, are you okay? I saw you talking to Ivan again, and you looked really freaked out for a sec. Did he do anything to you?"

The actual hint of worry that penetrated Alfred's eyes caught Yao slightly off guard. "No-aru. We were just…talking."

Alfred let out a sigh of relief, which surprised Yao even more. "That's good…"

"Alfred-aru?"

Arthur sighed and put a hand on Yao's shoulder. "Come on. Sit down. There's more to what we talked about earlier that you need to know."

The Chinese allowed himself to be led to a bench nearby, and Arthur sat beside him. Alfred remained standing, his expression uncharacteristically pensive. Somehow, Yao felt as if he were being sentenced to burning at the stake or something equally as grave. He shifted nervously in his seat as Alfred began to talk.

"You know that story I mentioned, about my friend Toris?"

Yao nodded slowly.

"Well, it was sometime in the eighth grade – Toris and I didn't hang out all that much. He and the other two of his trio spent most of their time together, and the three of them spent time with Ivan Braginsky." The American's blue eyes narrowed as his memories drifted back to him. "This one night, it was real late, and Toris was walking home from school. He had to stay after to make up work or something, I don't remember. Anyway, he was all alone, walking around in the snow. That's when Ivan attacked him.

"We didn't see it happen, but it was plain as day Ivan was the one who hurt him. When Toris's friend Raivis showed up, he said he saw Ivan standing over Toris's body, and his hands were covered in blood."

Yao shivered.

"The cops later said that Toris had been hit in the back with a lead pipe repeatedly. Raivis mentioned he had seen it lying in the snow nearby, too." Alfred looked down at his hands, and in that moment, he seemed lost, as if his soul had flown away and left his shell behind to drift away in the wind.

"If I had been there, I could have helped him. Instead, I let that commie get him. I let that damn commie almost kill my friend."

"He moved back to his homeland of Lithuania as soon as he had healed," Arthur pitched in solemnly. "Nobody ever had the chance to ask him for sure what had happened."

"It's obvious what happened!" Alfred snapped, glaring at the Englishman. "Ivan Braginsky is dangerous. That's why-" The American turned his head away, but his body posture was rigid. Yao saw his fists clench tightly at his sides, and figured his nails were digging viciously into his palms, though he didn't seem to notice. "…That's why I can't let you get close to Ivan, Yao. Not without warning you first."

Yao was too stunned to speak, so he only looked downwards.

There was a tense silence, followed by a long sigh as Alfred regained his composure. With a shaky laugh, he said, "Well, I think that's about it, dude. Just watch yourself, okay?"

Arthur stood to his feet but didn't follow Alfred immediately. Instead, he stared after him with his mouth drawn into a thin line, and his arms were stock straight at his sides. Without looking at Yao, he said, "Alfred is a good man. So when he believes so strongly that Ivan is a bad person, people can't help but believe him." A pause. "I do, too."

And then Arthur followed the American's footsteps grimly, leaving Yao alone to wonder what had just happened.


	5. Daisies and a Nickel Statue

**Chapter 5 – Daisies and a Nickel Statue**

Yao rose to his feet as the bell rang loudly, signaling the end of the class period. He waited patiently as people flowed out like a river, and nodded to Kiku and Heracles as they passed. The Chinese gathered his things up slowly, and once everyone else had disappeared into the halls, he made way for the door.

And then something stopped him. He hadn't the slightest idea why, but his feet simply refused to move. He was only a few steps from the doorway, and there was nothing keeping him from going there, so why wasn't he? Hesitantly, Yao turned around to look behind him, as if the answer would be there.

And it was, in a way. Yao saw Ivan Braginsky propped up on his elbow as always, staring out of the window; this time, however, Yao thought Ivan looked sort of sad. He no longer felt this was just a strange daydreamer, and his heartstrings tugged uncomfortably at the sight. Ivan's head was still turned away from the Asian, but his expression was drawn, although only in the slightest – there was no smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, no healthy glow on his face that suggested pleasure or shyness.

Katyusha's words came back to him. _He really needs a friend._

Yao's heart twisted around a little, and he grew nervous. Were hearts supposed to do that?

_He looks lonely, sitting there all by himself, _Yao thought.

But what about the story Alfred had told him? The evidence seemed hard to deny, especially with the emotions burned into the American's eyes.

_Ivan Braginsky is dangerous._

At that moment he almost chose to turn and leave, but he didn't. Ivan sure didn't seem scary when Yao had talked to him. Yao's heart reasoned that perhaps all Ivan really needed was a friend, or at least someone who wasn't scared senseless by being within three feet of him. And so in a moment of blindness Yao moved away from the door until he was standing at the Russian's side.

"Come eat lunch with me, Ivan."

When violet eyes blinked up into dark brown, Yao had the sinking suspicion nobody had ever said those words to the boy. His owlish eyes stared up at Yao with an expression equal parts surprise and disbelief, and Yao gave him a lopsided smile.

"You heard me. Come on."

…

Yao had ended up leading Ivan to one of the more abandoned lunch tables sitting in a darker corner of the cafeteria. It didn't take a genius to realize Ivan would be practically mauled by Alfred and the others if Yao had them in the same breathing space as each other, so to avoid any sort of real confrontation, Yao had picked out one of the most secluded seats he could find. Upon sitting down, the other people at the table had stood and moved away, which left Yao and Ivan with an entire table to themselves.

Not that it mattered all that much. Ivan was so uncomfortable it was affecting him physically – the Russian either glanced around him nervously or kept his gaze trained to the table, and he hadn't touched so much as a bite of his food the entire time. Yao gave him an odd look every once in a while as he ate away, but Ivan hardly even seemed to notice. So, not for the first time Yao asked, "What's wrong, Ivan?"

Ivan looked up in surprise, as if he forgot Yao had even been sitting right across from him. Then he would shake his head, muttering, "I am okay," under his breath weakly.

Yao would raise an eyebrow at this but shrug it away and resume eating without another word. Eventually, however, Yao roughly set down his fork, causing a quiet "Eeep!" to escape the Russian's mouth as he shrunk back into his scarf as he hid from the Asian's annoyed stare.

"Okay, Ivan – I'm serious. Tell me what's wrong-aru."

Ivan looked as if he planned on telling Yao that everything was fine again, but a stern look changed his mind. Fiddling with his thumbs under the table, the Russian looked down shyly.

"Um, n-no, it's just-" he gulped anxiously. "…I am not used to being around so many other…people."

And then suddenly Yao felt bad. He had dragged Ivan into a situation that made him nervous, and it was keeping him from eating. Yao leaned his forehead on his fingers and let out an inaudible sigh. "Why are you not comfortable-aru? Are you scared of people?"

Ivan refused to comment, instead going back to aimlessly poking his food with his fork. The two remained like this in an awkward sort of silence until Yao came up with an idea. He found himself hoping he wouldn't regret it later.

"Hey, Ivan…would you, ah…" Yao fumbled for the right words, twirling his wrist in the air. "That is, would you like to hang out Saturday? I have nothing better to do, so…"

Ivan stared at Yao with a dumbfounded expression. Growing self-conscious, Yao blushed slightly, and it was his turn to fidget now. "A-And if you like, I know a place where there are not many people, so…" And then Yao realized what he'd just implied, and he felt his face burn redder, and he shook his head frantically. "Aiyah, n-no, I didn't mean – I meant that – if you don't want to, that is-"

"No!" Ivan's voice was the loudest Yao had ever heard it, and the Russian shrunk back in surprise at his own volume. Then, in a quieter voice, he added, "I mean, I would like that. Thank you, Yao." And then, with a tiny smile, Ivan finally allowed himself to take his first bite of food all hour.

…

It was a beautiful Saturday morning, and Yao woke up to the sun pouring in through his curtains with a pleased yawn. Nothing was quite as satisfying as waking up to a nice day, and without the almost tangible oppression of school hanging over him, Yao felt wonderfully refreshed. The Chinese rolled over and checked the time on his phone: 11:38am. He was planning on meeting Ivan around two, which gave him enough time to relax, at least for a little while.

Yao got up and went downstairs, where he ate a quick breakfast with his sister Mei and his brother Im Yong Soo, both of which had also just woken up, themselves. Few words were spoken between the siblings, and within a few minutes, they had each gone their own ways. That left Yao on his own.

Yao finished his food, and then went back upstairs to take a shower and get dressed. By the time he was all done, it was somewhere around one o'clock and Yao decided to spend his free time painting. It was a hobby he'd indulged in every once in a while, when he was bored; he didn't dedicate his life to it as Kiku did his manga drawings, and he often didn't do more than paint a small scene on an even smaller canvas. He painted his Shinatty-chan often, and pandas as well, and the occasional background from the view of his window. He really had the best room in the house, he reminded himself again. When he stepped out onto a tiny balcony, his window overlooked a few trees, and then went on so Yao could see over the rest of the town. He could see the World from here, its multiple gray buildings rising out from the center, while smaller buildings panned out beneath it. In truth, this town had originally been only to house the World's first few residents during the trial stages (the World was, at first, a test to see how people from different nationalities would behave among one another.) The idea caught on quickly, however, and since then population had rapidly increased as people from all walks of life enrolled. Now, the World was an epicenter for this nameless town, rising out above everything else.

Looking past the World buildings, Yao could see the slums, where he had walked the other day. He couldn't see the sunflowers from here though, which disappointed him, because they really were such beautiful flowers. Instead, he could only see the less desirable parts of the slums – ragged buildings, filthy streets, and the occasional inhabitant or two. Yao was quite pleased his family didn't live near there.

Although, seeing the slums had just given him an idea. Yao pulled out a canvas and set it on an easel, then gathered his paints. The balcony was barely large enough to allow him and the easel both on it, but he managed to make them fit, and he raised his brush, looking out over the town.

…

Yao and Ivan had agreed upon meeting in a small park on the outskirts of town. It was called Sanctuary Park, and although its existence was not well known, it was well-kept. Everything about it was clean and beautiful, as if it were trying to live up to its name. The freshly-cut grass was spotted with little white daisies something Yao had always thought added an artistic sort of grace to a simple place.

When Yao arrived, Ivan was already standing next to the gate, looking awkward among a bunch of people shorter than him. When his owlish violet eyes met Yao's, his face seemed to brighten almost visibly, and he smiled and walked over to meet the Asian halfway. Yao looked up at the scarfed giant curiously.

"Ivan, how long have you been waiting here?"

Ivan shrugged. He seemed more confident than he had in their previous encounters. "A little while, I guess. I didn't have anything else to do, so I came early…"

"Sorry for making you wait-aru."

Ivan shook his head. "No, it is no problem. Besides, it is a nice day, да?"

To that, Yao allowed a small smile, himself. "Yes, it really is-aru."

The two boys walked side-by-side through the iron gate. The brick path underfoot curved through the grass gracefully, and it eventually led them to the center of the park, which formed into a small plaza. In the center sat a nickel statue of an angel, wings spread out behind him and his arms raised toward the sky in worship. Ivan blinked up at the statue in wonder as they passed, and Yao stopped walking in order to give the Russian the chance to admire it.

"Have you never seen this statue before-aru?" Yao asked, as Ivan's eyes only seemed to widen further as the seconds passed.

The boy shook his head but didn't look away. After some time, he looked back towards Yao, his expression resembling that of a child who had just seen the snow for the first time. "Yao, who is it?" he asked.

Yao walked around to the front of the statue with Ivan and pointed at a plaque at the angel's feet. "His name is Zadkiel. It's said he descended from Heaven and saved our world, so the park owners decided to have a statue built to recognize him. Not that I believe in that sort of thing-aru," he added almost as an afterthought. He may have been superstitious, but Yao didn't have much of an opinion on religion. He definitely didn't think that one angel somewhere had fallen from the sky and saved an entire human race. To each his own, he supposed.

Regardless, Ivan appeared absolutely entranced by the nickel figure hovering above him. Yao could admit that it was beautifully sculpted, but otherwise, he had no real attachment to the statue in the middle of the plaza. Bored, Yao tapped Ivan on the shoulder and said they should move on. Ivan quickly agreed, though he sent a final look towards Zadkiel before following Yao's footsteps.

There were, thankfully, rather few people within the park. Yao and Ivan had traversed most of the park via the brick walkway before eventually finding a nice place in the grass where they could sit. They were at the foot of a hill, and the sun was glowing warmly overhead, and the Chinese allowed himself to lay back and close his eyes as he admired the bliss of a nice day. Ivan had not said more than ten words since they had left the statue, though Yao believed that to be more because of his typical nervousness than because he had nothing to say.

Opening a brown eye a crack, Yao looked beside him at the Russian, who was sitting upright beside him a few feet away. He still seemed more comfortable than he had been at school, but he was still fidgety and cast an anxious glance around him once every five minutes.

And then it hit Yao – he had no idea what people really did when they "hung out". Because of his natural aversion to being close to people, Yao hadn't ever spent time with friends outside of school, save for when groups of people like Alfred and Arthur and whoever else met up somewhere. And even then, Yao often hung back and observed rather than participated.

Which left him at a loss of what to do right now.

"You know, Ivan, ah…" Yao sat up and scratched the back of his head uncertainly as he looked to where Ivan was sitting to his right, "I've never really…hung out before-aru. Sorry if I'm boring you…"

Ivan, his violet eyes wide with alarm, shook his head quickly in response. "No, no, this is good. I…have never really spent time like this either, so…" Ivan's voice faded away but the meaning was still there, and this brought a tiny smile to Yao's face. The Asian allowed himself to sink back into the daisies and stare up at the clouds.

Despite everything, however, Yao's mind would not let him be. He wondered over and over whether Ivan had really hurt anyone; if he had, why? He seemed to be a perfectly decent person, regardless of how shy or awkward he was around people. In fact, it was those exact qualities that led Yao to wonder if Ivan really would be capable of harming another human being. He just didn't seem to be the type, but no matter how much he used that argument, the fire in Alfred's eyes maintained a reasonable amount of doubt.

Yao wanted nothing more than to yell out in frustration. He was just about to when Ivan's quiet voice came to life beside him, speaking words that Yao could not catch. Rolling over so he could face Ivan, Yao sheepishly asked if he could repeat what he'd just said.

Ivan lowered his head into his scarf under Yao's stare. Almost whispering, he mumbled, " I asked if you had any siblings."

Yao's mouth twisted into a lopsided grin. "Ivan, I live with six younger siblings-aru. Four brothers and two sisters." At Ivan's surprised expression, Yao laughed briskly. "And no, it's not very easy living with them all."

Ivan breathed out shortly, which sounded almost like a laugh. Hesitantly, he asked, "Do you all love each other?"

Yao didn't really have to think about that one. He nodded thoughtfully. "We always bicker among each other, and we're pretty weird, but we love each other. " Yao waited for a few moments for Ivan to respond, but when he didn't, Yao asked, "And you-aru? What are your sisters like?"

Ivan seemed to ponder this for a moment as he watched the clouds overhead. They were getting darker. "Natalya is very sweet, but she is a little too attached to me for her own good. But Katyusha protects both of us. If it wasn't for her, I do not know where we would be, Natalya and I."

"What about your parents? Don't they look after you-aru?"

It was an honest question, but it made Ivan's expression turn solemn and his knees press closer to his chest. He didn't say anything. A couple times, Yao would try to initiate another conversation, but to no avail. He remained silent for the rest of the day spent at Sanctuary Park.


End file.
